


Kickoff

by Spearquint (orphan_account)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2010s, Episode Remix, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Multi, Past Relationship(s), feat. political inaccuracies probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Spearquint
Summary: Two days after the Mary Marsh debacle finds Josh staring at his phone, wondering if he’s just really tired, or still dreaming.
Relationships: (past), Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn, Mandy Hampton/Josh Lyman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Two days after the Mary Marsh debacle finds Josh staring at his phone, wondering if he’s just really tired, or still dreaming. He’s had some pretty strange fucking dreams. 

The notification says _POTUS in a bicycle accident. Come to the office._ Josh does his best to not think about how he’d basically woken up in his office, face smashed in a bunch of memos that he was definitely supposed to read for Leo. There’s someone vacuuming in the background, he thinks, and rubs his eyes, as if he can will the tired away before he’s actually got to do something. 

The phone set on his desk starts ringing loudly and he just stares at it for a few seconds before sighing and picking up. They’ll come for him when he needs to go to the Oval. 

“Yeah, this is Josh Lyman?”

* * *

He’s in the middle of a conversation with someone at state when Donna knocks at his doorway. He looks up, holds up a finger, and she pouts. 

“...yeah, that’s fine. Just don’t do anything until Justice calls you back. Okay, bye.” Josh turns to Donna, who’s stirring her coffee. “Hey.”

“Exactly how many people at State are on hold with you right now?" 

“Technically, that’s a matter of national security that you should not know, and it’s not -” he stops at the growing grin on her face. “And you’re fucking with me.”

“What can I say? Getting you going is fun.” She takes a few steps in her office, and infuriatingly, does not look as horrible as he does. 

“So, I heard he's got a sprain,” Donna starts. She’s got her blonde hair down her shoulders, and it’s bright in the dim light of the room. 

“And how’d you know that?” Josh says, getting up from her chair to look at her. “Did you get me any?” 

“Of course,” she starts. “ _Not._ And the president texted Leo, who emailed CJ, who told me.” 

“The wonders of technology,” Josh states, sarcastically, not trying to look too longingly at the coffee that Donna’s got cupped in her hand. “And I thought all those people who said the president should keep his BlackBerry were crazy.”

“It’s a personal preference, Josh! It shows he wants to keep in touch with his friends, just like every other American!” Donna replies, raising her eyebrow. “Relatability points! Forward thinking!”

“He’s the president, Donna. He could get hacked,” Josh argues, treading over the same argument he’d had with CJ months ago about this. The president had wanted to keep the damned thing, and it's taken a whole bunch of negotiations, Leo squabbling with Nancy McNally for a week, and a new set of rules to get the thing approved. The whole thing set precedents because presidents weren't allowed to communicate electronically before this administration. Something about all communications being public or something. 

Josh’s got the phone number and email address of the President on file, which is a whole new thing in itself. Still.

“So could Twitter. And Google. And Facebook -” 

“Are you just going to keep naming big tech until I agree with you?”

“Josh,” Donna stresses, but she’s smiling.

“Donna,” he says back, crossing his arms and the table so they’re toe to toe.

“It’s a mild sprain,” she says. “I’ve got to put a press release online about it. CJ’s handling the briefing about it, later, I think.” 

“So, since you’re so educated, how’d it happen?” This, curiously, has been sitting in the back of his head, the whole time.

“He was swerving to avoid a tree,” Donna replies. The corner of her mouth is twitching. 

“He was - what?”

“He was unsuccessful,” she continues. 

“That’ll make a hell of a headline,” he replies, as they walk out of his office. “Right next to _US Sends the National Guard Out to Cubans.”_

“First of all,” she says, after a sip of the goddamned coffee. “Leo is not letting you do that. You don’t have that much authority. Second, you know there are better options.”

“I don’t want to? And hey -- I’m the Deputy Chief of Staff,” he says, attempting to be offended, but Donna just rolls her eyes. 

“And I’m a glorified PR consultant,” she says. “Speaking of which - Josh - the Mary Marsh thing -”

Josh stops smack in the middle of the hallway to look at Donna, who stares innocently back at him. He groans. The whole thing’s been picking at him for a while, and he’s half-expected Leo to jumpscare him any time now with a resignation letter. Maybe. 

“You know I was right, Donna.”

“Josh, this isn’t a test.”

“It sure feels like it!” It comes out louder than he’d intended to, but Donna’s not fazed. She’s long become accustomed to his mood swings - so has Sam. It should be in the handbook: _How to Be Friends with Joshua Lyman._

“I’m saying that lumping everyone who’s leaning right and Christian isn’t the best idea. People have layers, Josh! Nuance.”

“Nuance?” he says, incredulous, feeling the same fritz of anger that had started when Mary Marsh had started talking about abolishing civil unions. 

“Nuance. As much as you don’t like it - “ she holds up a finger. “- and I know you don’t so don’t convince me - we do need them. Not all of them. But we do.”

“We need Alan Caldwell, Donna,” he replies. “We want him. But we definitely, from the bottom of my heart, do not need John Van Dyke and Mary Marsh!” 

“Well, Alan Caldwell wasn’t there, Josh!” she says, one hand on her hip, eyes daring. “And as much as you want to believe it, you don’t always get what you want.”

He deflates a bit after, stares at his feet. 

“You care too much,” Donna notes, and her eyes are softer, her voice gentle. “It's not like I don't feel the same. But sometimes caring also means knowing to rein it in, you know?" 

He nods, and she offers him a small grin. 

They continue walking, passing by aides, interns, and assistants, the West Wing full of motion and kinetic energy. Donna’s step is faster, but Josh has longer legs, which means they’re stepping in time as much as they can. Eventually, they get to Leo’s office, and the door's closed. There’s yelling coming from the back of it, and Margaret gives it a pointed look.

Sam's already there, a legal pad shoved under one arm, his glasses sitting low on his nose. He pushes them up, but he looks just as bad as Josh. Josh doesn’t think he'd be able to live it down if both Sam and Donna were looking better than him. 

"Hey," Sam says, and then sips his coffee. Then to Margaret: “It’s the New York Times again, isn’t it?”

“They spelled ‘Khaddafi’ wrong,” she says, completely deadpan and not surprised at all, and Josh hears Donna snort in her coffee. 

“Well, they did,” Sam replies, in that absent way he does when he’s really out of it. Josh has got years of evidence to back it up. 

“The only reason you haven’t done the same is that you’re too nice,” Donna notes, still with that smile on her face, then cocks her head. “How’s the coffee?”

“Hot. Great. Thanks, Donna.”

“Wait,” Josh says, doing a double-take and then wheeling around to see Donna, who’s pointedly not looking at him. “You got him coffee, and not _me?”_

“My loyalties are with Sam,” Donna proclaims. "We in communications have to stick together." 

“You were my assistant,” he sputters. 

“For like three days,” she counters, and she’s right. Donna had answered Josh’s calls for exactly 72 hours before she’d come up with a social media strategy for the campaign. She'd been in j-school for six months before dropping out for reasons unspecified, according to her. 

Then CJ and Toby had looked at each other, and CJ had said, “Well, you’re coming with me,” and Donna had been shuttled to public relations and communications faster than Josh could be indignant about it. Which he is not. Really. Him and Donna are still close because once Donna Moss has decided to be your friend, there’s no getting out of it. Sam, CJ, and Toby have the same tenacity - it’s the reason they’d all stuck with Josh to begin with. 

It’s a little strange at times, but Josh wouldn’t ask for anything else. 

* * *

“Is there anything I can say, other than the President rode his bike into a tree?” CJ says, rubbing her forehead. 

“He hopes to never do it again,” Leo responds, looking far too in a way that Josh can only describe as his _done with this bullshit_ look. 

“We’re trending,” Donna adds, scrolling through her phone. “Senator Bleekard wishes the President a safe recovery.”

“Bipartisanship at its finest,” Toby says, dry, leaning back in his chair. “Now if it was only that easy to get bills passed.”

“Seriously, Leo,” CJ says. “Donna needs to put out a press release and something on the White House Twitter,” Josh actually sees Leo’s eyebrow twitch at that - “and I need something to say. They’re laughing pretty hard.”

“That rep from Georgia is making a comment about the President’s lack of coordination,” Donna, adds, and Leo actually starts looking like he might implode. Sam looks like he actually wants to check it for himself and Josh is - just done? Ok? This isn’t his area, but even if it were, he’d probably have quit months ago. The frisson of anger that is probably indignation at some freshman rep does not need to come out right now.

“What do you want me to -” Leo starts, addressing CJ and Donna. “‘The President, while riding a bicycle on his vacation in Jackson Hole, came to a sudden ‘arboreal stop’'-- what do you want from me?”

“A little love,” CJ answers, while Donna says, “A personal touch,” and they both stop and stare at each other before going quiet. The thing with them is different than it is between Sam and Toby or Josh and Leo. CJ and Donna have the ability to be on completely different pages but still come to the same conclusion - but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re usually thinking about different things at the same time. 

The conversation switches over to Cuba, which Sam and Josh know collectively jackshit about. Toby eventually gets to the heart of the matter, and it’s decided that sending the Cuban refugees back is definitely not an option - Josh thinks they're better off trying to mobilize and send help, anyway. Then Sam starts making noises about not having time to keep Josh updated, ending his reasoning with, “Isn’t this more of a military area?”

Josh has been on the receiving end of Sam’s arguments for years, and the shock that comes on everyone’s face only goes to say that this definitely isn’t his finest hour. God, he wonders, staring at Sam, who’s got the deer-in-headlights look plastered all over his stupidly handsome face, he’s really out of it. 

“...you think the United States is under attack from 1200 Cubans in rowboats?” Toby says, and the way his voice jumps across the sentence is the only clue that he’s incredulous.

"I'm not saying I don't like our chances,” Sam notes, but he’s grasping.

Sending in the National Guard to deal with it, according to CJ, is a move that indicates panic. According to Sam, it’s a good idea. It becomes like a game of kickball, picking teams - Josh is with CJ, mostly because sending the Guard in would be an unneeded nightmare. 

Donna says, “They probably need food and doctors, not the weight of American forces.” Toby’s in the crossroads, but eventually, he concedes to Donna.

“Sam, talk to USCIS and make sure they’re coordinating with the Red Cross and the CDC,” Josh says, after, and Sam nods. 

“Right,” Leo says after Sam leaves. His gaze sits on Josh, heavy and knowing, and before Leo says, “Let’s talk about Josh,” he can feel the dread come up in his throat, like bile. 

* * *

Leo basically chews him out for fifteen minutes before saying, “No, you’re not fired - stop looking like you need to start packing up for Canada - not yet, anyway.” This leads to CJ saying, “Canada? My chances would be somewhere in Europe - the UK, maybe,” and Toby noting, "Try Kansas. Sending Josh over there would probably start phase 2 of the American Revolution." 

Josh’s insistence - “Can you stop thinking of places to exile me?" - does nothing to quell the way Donna looks like she’s going to burst into giggles. 

Eventually, he ends up in his office, decidedly ignoring the way the guy on Fox News is saying, _“And another story from this week -- Deputy Chief of Staff Joshua Lyman has an outburst with Mary Marsh from the American Union of Christians! Lyman’s behavior is only one indication of the Bartlet Administration’s disregard for the Judeo-Christian foundations of the US; here’s playback from Capitol Beat -”_

And then it’s Josh and Mary Marsh in full HD and he’s yelling, “Lady, the God you pray to is too busy being indicted for tax fraud!”

The guy on Fox News then starts launching into a diatribe about something Josh doesn't care about. He lowers the volume of the TV and puts his head in his hands. 

He’s not even sure why Leo had let him be on that show to begin with - Leo’s known him long enough to understand that Josh doesn’t play well with people who still believe in conversion therapy and intelligent design. Sam would’ve been a good choice - better, probably - Sam’s got that way of mincing his words so they come out of left field, all sharp and right to the point. 

It would’ve been Sam, except Sam isn’t exactly straight, which somehow plays even worse than a secular liberal Jew with a motormouth. Sam’s been out as bisexual for years and not even two weeks into the term, he'd gotten backlash about being appointed Deputy Director of Communications. 

It's 2010, not the 90s, but it still had happened. It’d all come to a head when a reporter had asked CJ if Sam was infringing on the effectiveness of the administration. Josh had watched the press briefing with Donna and seen her fingernails curl into her palms, her mouth in a thin line. Toby had spent that week yelling at various news editors and media directors. Sam had offered to resign beforehand, which had led to Leo saying, “Kid, if you’re leaving, then I should’ve left years ago. _No.”_

CJ had adjusted her glasses, and said, sharp, “The President stands with Sam, and frankly, so do I. His personal life has no influence on the quality of his work, so why don’t we just get back to talking about the Cabinet?” 

At one point during the thick of it, Josh had looked at him, and said, “Are you sure about this?”

Sam had stared back, eyes impossibly blue, and said, “Yeah, I am. If it hits me instead of all the people it could be, then yeah. Plus,” His smile was weak, but it was still there. “It’s not all bad. I’ve got some pretty nice letters in the mix too, you know?" 

Sam’s selfless like that. Josh isn't.

Everything about it has mostly blown over, and it's only brought up from time to time now, but still. Still. 

It’s at least some of the reason why the thought of coming out himself makes him shake and shake and shake. That and a bucketload of ignorance. Most of the time, he's too caught in a shitstorm on the Hill or the White House to give it a second thought. Sam doesn’t hold it against him, even though he should have, both now and then, and there’s a part of Josh that hates him a little for it. 

Even if they aren’t - anything - anymore, Sam’s still his best friend. The part that hates Sam a little hates himself for thinking that even more. 

Someone’s knocking. 

“Open the damn door,” says Toby, voice muffled, and Josh shuts off Fox News and lets him in.

* * *

Josh is roped into a meeting for the afternoon with the AUOC and Mary Marsh (eugh) as some kind of concession for not being fired. Toby had looked a little too scheming to be serious, but he’d eventually left Josh a link with an image of Mandy Hampton attached, looking as gorgeous as the day she’d broken up with him. Mandy reappears in a conversation about Lloyd Russell with Leo and Sam - Leo looks like he’s actually considering hiring her, which, _no._ He and Sam watch Leo leave from the Roosevelt Room, in the doorway. Josh is stewing in the thought that he has to meet Madeline Hampton, Ph.D., and not get eviscerated somehow, when Sam says, “Is that the same suit you wore yesterday?”

Josh stares at him. “Yeah.” Pauses, checks Sam up and down. “You?” 

“Yeah.”

They start walking out, and Sam says, a little out of the blue, “So, Leo’s wife left me a message today.”

“You - wait, she doesn’t hate you? When?”

“It was during a meeting about assault stats with Ed and Larry,” Sam answers as they cross across the communication bullpen, nearing Sam’s office. “Grandmothers are actually scary, apparently. And yeah, she still hates me.”

“I mean,” Josh says, cocking his head. “You tried to hit on her at a party fundraiser, Sam.”

“Ok, for the hundredth time, I didn’t know and also - “

“Sam, you fucked up. Just roll with the punches.”

There’s at least three comm interns who actually snap and stare at Josh when he says that, their eyes wide. Sam rolls his eyes. “You have jobs, you know.”

They all mumble various versions of sorry, and go back to whatever they were doing. Sam sighs, pushes a hand through his hair. “You should take your own advice, you know. Take the meeting with Toby.”

“Sam -” Josh starts, like he’s going to argue, but Sam beats him to it.

“I mean it,” Sam insists, but his face is tense. “Don't risk your job, Josh. You don’t want to leave anything up to chance.” 

They stay in the space, quiet, but it’s comfortable. Then, Josh breathes out, and says, “So what’d she want?”

Sam’s posture loosens a bit at the edges, and his voice turns sheepish. “She was supposed to give a tour to some students from her daughter’s fourth-grade class. She can’t make it and wants me to do it.” 

“And?” The way this is going, Josh knows what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“I can’t make it. But I need to do it.”

Josh wants to rub his eyes in frustration - Sam’s still too nice for his own good. “Just make up some crap. Bureaucracy’s built on that, you know?”

Never mind that Mallory O’Brien has a bullshit detector as sharp as a Swiss army knife, but whatever.

“I can’t, Josh,” Sam says, and he sounds so painfully earnest that it’s almost tangible. “They wrote _essays_.”

“Do you even know anything about the White House?” Josh asks him sardonically and watches Sam’s face fall a bit at that. Damn idealism. Before he can respond, someone’s phone starts ringing - it’s Sam’s and he pulls it out of his pocket. He takes the call without looking down and puts it to his ear. 

“Hello?” Sam says, and Josh waits. Then:

“This is Sam Seaborn.” A pause. Sam’s face gets progressively more confused. “Who’s this?”

Then his face flares into the beginnings of shock.

“Okey-doke,” Sam stutters, and in any other case it’d be probably fucking hilarious, Sam looking like a lost puppy, but the way he looks when he hangs up the phone and just stares at it says otherwise. 

“What?” Josh says. “Who was it?”

Sam doesn’t look at him. “Call my work phone.”

“What - why?” 

“Just call it, alright?” Sam’s voice is tipping between perfectly calm and perfectly crazy. There’s something wrong. 

Josh pulls out his own phone and calls up Sam’s number. The phone in Sam’s hand doesn’t ring at all, and Josh feels his stomach drop hard. 

“You switched phones with someone.”

Sam’s still not looking at him. “Apparently.”

“You're _absolutely_ sure it wasn't your personal phone.”

“...yep.”

“Sam, god, how the hell - how many people have the same exact model of iPhone as you? With the same ringtone?” Josh is whisper-yells because they’re in a public place and those interns are definitely listening in. 

“More than we think,” Sam says, still sounding so fucking calm, even though his government-issued iPhone, with the actual President’s number in it is in the hands of a random person. Instead of appropriately freaking out, Sam says, “I need to take care of this,” holding up the phone, and heads into his office, closing the door. Josh stands in disbelief for a minute, just staring at the closed door and wondering what the fuck just happened. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all!
> 
> tw for this chapter: mentions of homophobia

One meeting with Mandy and an autograph later, Josh is still thinking about Sam’s phone. 

Sam’s not a careless guy by any measure, but he is a little absent-minded on the more practical end of things. Case in point: every single thing he’d tried to cook their first time in DC had been inedible. Josh’s just hoping this whole thing wraps up quickly; he’s really not looking forward to the avalanche of national security issues if it doesn’t. 

Mandy’s saying, sipping her iced tea, “...it’s Christmas for Mary Marsh. You’re a Fulbright scholar, do the math. I mean, unless you spent that year abroad doing nothing.” 

“I was doing important things!” he says - maybe a little too loud. It’d snapped him out of thinking about Sam. “Educational things! I got a degree if that helps.”

“So did all of your friends. Are all of you like this?” she replies, eyebrows quirking. “Do what Toby’s telling you to do.” 

“Sam told me the same, you know -” he starts, before he replays some of the conversation in his head. “Wait - Lloyd?”

“What?”

“You - you called Senator Russell ‘Lloyd’,” Josh says, feeling his eyebrows furrow. “Like, you said, ‘What do you wanna know? Is Lloyd gonna run?”’

Mandy’s face goes cool, eyes shuttering. She’s got her game face on. “So?”

“It’s unusual for you that you’d call a Senator by his first name to a third party.”

“A third party?” She’s looping her straw around the glass rim. 

“Unless -”

“Unless I was dating him,” she finishes, and the thought materializes right around the same time, just like he’d been turning a corner on the sidewalk. Mandy’s eyes go sharp, and her mouth parts a little before she finally says, “Are you gonna freak out?”

“What? Mandy - it’s not -” he sighs. “I - uh - always thought he was gay.”

“Well, maybe those instincts you’re so famous for are finally wearing off,” she replies, and her eyes go from flinty to knowing in a second.

Josh had met Mandy after Sam had left for New York, and he’d still been on the Hill. Their first date had been on a Tuesday, and her hair, dark like night, had been to her shoulders. It had been in a bar in downtown Georgetown. 

It had taken a debate about tax cuts and three beers for Josh to say, “...well the last person I dated would definitely disagree with you. Seriously, if Sam were here -” 

He hadn’t meant to talk about Sam at all - some part of him was still sore and scarred from Sam leaving, even though they’d left things on amicable terms. It was only a moment after that’d he’d realized it, and the jagged edge of panic that hit him had been like lightning. 

“Well, I only know one Sam that doesn't like tax cuts and he’s in New York,“ she started, her smile lingering between friendly and challenging. 

It had taken a few moments of Josh gaping like a dying fish for him to say, “I might be totally out of the ballpark here - I really hope I am - _Sam Seaborn?”_

And that had led to Mandy explaining how she and Sam met at Princeton when he was an undergrad and she was getting her master’s degree. Mandy was the reason that Sam had signed up for his first internship in the Senate, years ago. According to her, she’d basically filled his email full of links to the site until he’d caved. 

It also makes Mandy maybe the third person who knows that Josh swings both ways, but, well.

"Anyway,” she continues. “The New York Times is putting a poll up on their site. It brings your unfavorables up to 48%.”

“Where do you get these things?” Josh asks, incredulous, though he’s pretty sure Donna or CJ will probably text him with the same stuff in a bit. Mandy’s information is always on point - where she’s getting any of it from is one of the secrets of the universe. 

“We’re not on the same side anymore, Josh,” she says, looking apologetic for maybe the first time in a very long while. For some reason, Josh thinks it's more than just Russell and Bartlet this time around. 

* * *

“You look awful,” Donna says, a critical eye scanning him up and down. She’d been in the comms bullpen with some other staffers and had wrapped up just around the time she’d spotted Josh cutting through to his office. 

“Unless you’re going to make me new clothes like I’m Cinderella and you’re my fairy godmother, I don’t really care,” Josh says, walking across the policy bullpen.

Donna’s heels click-clack behind him, and as he’s looking for whatever key opens up his office door, she says, “ _Josh_.” 

He turns around. For maybe the first time today, or whenever he’d woken up, the exhaustion seeps in, and the thought of collapsing on any available horizontal surface is starting to look really good right now. Better than dealing with Mary Marsh for the second time in a week, anyway. 

“I know for a fact you’ve got a change of clothes in your office,” she says. “I also know you’ve been wearing the same clothes for 31 hours now.” 

“Oh gee, what next?” he says, crossing his arms. 

“You need to look presentable. You’re no Cinderella, but you’re a professional,” she replies. “Get your stuff on.” 

“And I would do that… why?” he says, fighting the urge to say something along the lines of this meeting totally not being something he’ll dress up for. Objectively, Josh knows that he should’ve been more civil two - three? - days ago. Maybe he should’ve just stayed silent and listened instead of blowing it all. Or kept some kind of smile on his face that would leave him clenching his jaw. On the other hand, he doesn’t know what would’ve happened to whatever he’d felt on _Capitol Beat_ \- feelings like that don’t just shut themselves away, as much as you want them to. 

“Because this is my field, and people naturally respond better to well-dressed men that don’t sleep in their offices,” she says, and even though she’s completely serious, her lips twitch, just a little. “Besides, all the girls think you look hot when you clean up.” 

Josh raises his eyebrows. “Is that _you_ saying that -”

“Nope,” Donna cuts him off, easy as anything before someone across the hall calls for her and she leaves. Josh watches her retreat before unlocking the door and going in. 

* * *

“Mary Marsh is going to bait you,” CJ says, as they walk to the Mural Room. “She’s gonna bait you and you might go down hook, line, and sinker.”

“I know,” Josh says, and Toby rolls his eyes. “If you did, we wouldn’t be in this conundrum.”

“Hey, this was your idea -” Josh replies, and Toby pats him on the shoulder like he’s maybe ten years old. “And the cycle goes on and on, Josh. Resistance is futile.”

“Toby, is that Star Trek?” Josh replies, after a moment, and whatever little window they’d all gotten to Toby’s head instantly closes up. “Wait -”

“Josh, I know your powers of redirection do wonders on the Hill,” CJ says. “But do me a favor and use them in real life, once in a while? You’re going to get baited. They might make you say something arrogant. Don’t give in.” 

“Did you know Mandy’s dating Russell?” Josh says, suddenly, strangely desperate for something, anything that is not whatever’s going to happen in a minute. 

CJ stares at him for a long moment, and Josh sees her face flicker between surprise and question before she shakes herself out of it. “Josh, are you even listening?”

At that point, Donna’s caught up with them, and they’re about to walk into the Mural Room. 

“They’re going to try to bait me,” Josh says, going for the gist of CJ’s points. “I shouldn’t give in. Got it.”

“I hope,” CJ says, sarcasm and exasperation wrapped cleanly together, and they walk in.

Turns out, CJ has a lot more to worry about than Josh taking the bait, because as soon as Mary Marsh starts talking about abstinence-only education, Toby’s gone down too. Sam and Leo show up around the point where Toby is saying, “If this is about me and Josh being Jewish, that’s a whole _other_ conversation we’re getting into -”

Sam looks a little winded. Leo looks about as tired as Josh has ever seen him, but between CJ trying to mediate between Toby and Van Dyke and Caldwell, Mary says, “I don’t like what you’re implying, Ms. Cregg, Mr. Ziegler.”

Caldwell breaks in, “Mary, there’s been an apology, let’s move on,” but Mary ignores it. 

“Mrs. Marsh - “ CJ starts, but then she says, sniffing, “This is the least this administration can do if they’re willing to support certain - _lifestyles_.”

She’s looking straight at Sam. 

The whole room is so silent afterward that Josh thinks he could hear a pin drop in the middle of it. It’s so silent that it’s almost loud with everything that happened before, like the last notes of a song, or the aftershocks of an earthquake. 

His heart is beating so loudly in his head that he can’t hear what Toby, CJ, and - Donna? say, even though he sees their mouths moving. 

Josh can’t even look at Sam because if he does, he’ll see something that he doesn’t want to see - can’t see - because seeing it all on his face, clear and obvious, would somehow make it real. Make it something that he actually needs to stare straight in the eye. 

At some point, Van Dyke starts talking about the First Amendment or the First Commandment or _something_ and words start filtering into Josh’s head again. It riles Toby up, and he’s ping-ponging with Van Dyke until the President finally, finally shows up, with, ‘"I am the Lord your God. Thou shalt worship no other God before me.” 

Everyone shoots up, waiting, and the momentary hint of surprise is gone as soon as Bartlet walks in. 

He pauses, swings his gaze around to all of them with a grin. It sits on Josh a little longer than the rest, but Josh is so relieved he can’t even be bothered to care. “Boy, those were the days, huh?” 

* * *

After the president kicks out Mary Marsh, Caldwell, and Van Dyke, he reads off a note from Leo. It’s about the Cuban refugees - the situation has gotten a lot worse since this morning. Every sentence makes Josh’s stomach sink deeper and deeper. Bartlet’s face is grave as he looks up at all of them. 

“Break’s over,” he says, and Josh does his best to push away whatever happened in the Mural Room so he can focus. He feels himself nod in response. 

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Leo says, and the look he gives all of them means it’s time to go. Josh chances a glance at Sam, who still looks a little shaken by the whole thing. A long time ago, Josh might have gone over to him, held his shoulders, and waited for Sam to talk. 

Now, he just shifts his gaze before Sam can realize he’s looking at him. Toby’s still disgruntled and Donna’s mouth is tight at the corners. CJ is looking at Sam, who has caught her gaze. His mouth goes into a half-smile, but it’s wobbly at best. Josh’s heart twists at that. Damn it. 

They all go to leave, shuffling out of the Oval. Josh is the last to leave, and he’s trying to remember what meetings he has next when Bartlet’s voice jolts him out. 

“Josh.” The tone is disapproving, and Josh tries not to look like a kid who’s broken curfew. He tries. 

“Sir?”

“‘Too busy being indicted for tax fraud,’” The President peers over his glasses, mouth downturned and eyebrows furrowed. “Really?”

“Well, to be fair -”

“Don’t do it again,” Bartlet says and that’s all the answer Josh needs. He swallows. “Yes, sir.” 

He walks out quickly, and as he leaves, he can hear Bartlet call for Mrs. Landingham, his voice carrying over the clamor and chaos of the West Wing.

Josh lasts one and a half hours, two meetings, and three policy memos before he runs into Sam completely by accident. Obviously. 

Sam is watching CJ’s briefing, where she’s fielding questions about Russell. He’s holding a cup of coffee, and Josh gets his own before walking up to him. He’s close enough so their shoulders brush.

“Hey,” he says, and Sam turns to stare at him. He looks even worse than this morning, which is a feat because Sam could make sleep deprivation look good. 

“Hey,” Sam says, and then - “Hoynes’ statement about his support for the president is too vague.” 

Josh blinks, before rolling his eyes. There’s a reason he’d taken off from that campaign as soon as he’d seen Bartlet in Nashua. “Are you surprised?”

“Well, no,” Sam acquiesces, looking down at his coffee. “But as a writer and a firm believer of the principles of this country, I’d hope that our elected officials would be more eloquent than ‘This is the time when the President needs our support.’”

“Lower your expectations,” Josh replies, amused before he remembers the actual reason he came over. “Listen, about earlier -”

“Not here,” Sam whispers, eyes dancing about the interns and staffers moving and working around the bullpen. “Your office?” 

“Sam -” Josh starts, but then Sam fixes his gaze on him, blue and intent. “Right. My office.” 

* * *

"Were you ever going to tell me Leo's daughter wasn't a fourth-grader?" Sam jokes in an attempt to break the tension that’s settled between them. 

Whatever Josh had been thinking suddenly evaporates. "Wait, you thought Mallory was a fourth-grader?" 

"'Well, 'Leo's daughter's fourth-grade class' doesn't leave a lot open to interpretation." 

"You're supposed to be good at reading between the lines," Josh retorts. "She saw right through you, didn't she?" 

Mallory's the closest thing he has to a cousin - it helps that their fathers have known each other for as long as he can remember. He thinks of the time she'd visited him at Harvard the year before she'd started college. After an hour of him pointing and describing everything on campus in the vaguest terms possible, Mallory had said, "You have no clue what you're saying, do you?" 

"Let's just say that I'm not giving any tours anytime soon," Sam answers, and he looks like he might almost smile. 

“Sam,” Josh starts. He stops, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to get to the heart of all this. “What Mary Marsh said was complete bullshit.”

Sam averts his eyes, and something about it hurts a little. “I know.”

“She called it a goddamn lifestyle, it’s not a _choice_ -” Josh feels the anger fill in like a waterfall, feels his fists curling up.

“I know, Josh,” Sam says, slowly, more carefully. 

“I - “ Josh goes on, but then falters at Sam’s look. There’s nothing else he can say to this without going into personal territory, and neither of them have been any good at talking about it. 

“Most of what she says is crap, Josh,” Sam continues. “Like what she said about you and Toby and linking your humor with New York. I _lived_ in New York, Josh. You do not joke like a New Yorker.” 

“I take offense to that,” Josh says, almost on autopilot, before: “Wait, what does it sound like, then?”

“It sounds like the humor of a thirty-something who grew up in New England,” Sam replies, and then he’s silent like he’s considering something. He rubs the bridge of his nose before saying, more quietly, “I got my phone back.” 

Josh is caught off-guard for a second before the sentence registers in his head. Relief trickles in like rainwater on a windowpane. “That’s great! Saves us a whole lot of angry meetings with Leo and Nancy McNally.” 

“About that,” Sam says, and shifts, like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. Before Josh can ask him what the hell that means, he starts talking, quick and sharp. 

“Yesterday, I was out for a late drink, and I met this woman named Laurie, and Laurie and I hit it off, and we spent the evening together back at her place, and the next day I discovered she was a call girl. The phone that I had this morning was hers.” 

Sam’s not even out of breath. 

Josh stares at him for maybe two seconds, before he says, “A call girl?” It comes out all wrong. 

“Yeah.”

“You slept with a call girl?”

“I… yes. Yes, I did.” 

“You _switched phones_ with a call girl?” The implications of that hit Josh right after. “Does she know -”

“Her name is Laurie, and yes, she knows I work for the President,” Sam answers, and at Josh’s mouth opening in response, because _what the hell_ \- he adds, “No, she wouldn’t say anything.”

Josh resists the urge to break into hysterical giggles or something worse. He would call whatever’s currently racing through his body panic, but this whole situation seems so surreal that he can’t even call it that. “How do you know?”

Sam gives him half a shrug, before saying in that clipped, prep-school way of his, “I know.” 

“How do you -” 

“Look, I really like her, and it’s not what you think,” Sam replies, the clipped tone tinted with defensiveness. “I left pretty abruptly, and it was rude and I think I might owe her a proper goodbye, you know?” 

He's rambling in run-ons. This is bad. 

“Does that mean you’re going to call her again?” Josh asks, and tries not to groan when Sam says, “You’d like her if you met her, Josh.”

“Is this you trying to reform her?” he prods. “Because, Sam, I don't think- “

“No,” Sam says quickly, too quickly, before he shifts gears and says, “I really should be working on that speech.”

“What speech?”

“The speech that I’ve been putting off for -" Sam blinks at the ceiling. “- half an hour and counting. And I don’t know about you, but Toby’s wrath is not fun, so I’m just going to -” He exits Josh’s office, and Josh goes after him, catching him in the doorway.

“You got to promise me this is never going to happen, Sam,” he says, scanning Sam’s face. There’s a fine line somewhere in all of this, and Josh is getting a sinking feeling that Sam’s going to cross it, leading to some catastrophe where CJ will definitely have their heads. Instead of answering, Sam unlocks Josh’s door and heads out.

Josh thinks about going after him, but yells, “Talk to Toby!” at Sam’s back. Sam waves a hand at him but doesn’t turn around. 

He stands there until Donna shows up at some point, saying, “Josh, I need to -” 

It takes one look at him for her to say, “What’s going on?”

Josh rubs his eyes. He has a meeting at six with Leo, and something after that. He’ll have to check his Outlook Cal. “Nothing.” 

“Really?”

“..Yes.”

“You’re lying,” Donna’s looking at him skeptically.

“Maybe?” He doesn’t have the time to deal with this. He doesn’t have the brain space to deal with this, what the fuck. 

“Look, Josh, you know, if something’s happened -”

“Nothing’s happened, Donna,” he says, but then does the stupid thing of adding, “If something’s happened, we can all blame Sam, so let’s just go with that, yeah?”

Donna’s face lights up with realization. “So, you’re saying something’s happened with Sam. Something’s happened with Sam, and since you’re trying to convince me nothing’s happened, it definitely happened and it’s something that I should know about.”

“ _Nothing’s happened_ ,” he stresses and shuts up the part of his brain that says _not yet._

She actually pouts at him. “As deputy press secretary, if something does happen, I have the responsibility of going after Sam. And you, if you’re withholding information of great importance.” Donna says the last part with a flourish. 

“Well, you do what you gotta do,” Josh says. Donna starts talking about a coordinating issue she has with the Office of Public Engagement, but Josh’s mind keeps flickering back to Sam. Hopefully, Sam will get his brain back at some point today -- maybe Toby will talk some sense into him. That calms him down a little - Sam listens to Toby. He respects Toby. Yeah, maybe things will work out just fine. 

(It doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t. Also, according to Donna, Josh screamed when he found CJ in his office, legs crossed on top of his desk, which is not true. _It’s not.)_

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by... veep. 
> 
> so.
> 
> yeah. 
> 
> thank you for reading! idk where this'll take me but i'm glad to start. cheers!
> 
> i wanted to thank [thegoodthebadandthenerdy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodthebadandthenerdy/pseuds/thegoodthebadandthenerdy) on ao3 for reading the first draft of this thing, giving me her feedback, and being my beta for this wacko work/ she is absolutely lovely and you should read all her fics. 
> 
> also so much thanks to [welcometoyourworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometoyourworld/pseuds/welcometoyourworld) who has a bounty of knowledge about politics and the 2010s and has been a great help when fleshing out this work. check out her stuff too!
> 
> edit: i'm considering making this a series of fics that are a mix of modern aus of episodes from s1 to s4 and original storylines instead of one giant fic! MAYBE??? so stay tuned????? 
> 
> also! in terms of the relationship tag, if it's marked with (past) at the end, it means that all of the tags are past relationships. otherwise, i'll individually mark them! hope that helps!


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